Britain's Drunk Texting Adventure
by Lady Death of Nevada
Summary: The Lonely Lady of Shallot and I were bored so we wrote this TOGETHER! : Britain's drunk again but this time he has his phone and is texting EVERYONE! Rated M for cursing and things that are hinted at. Please R&R!
1. Britain Gets Drunk

**Hey there! The Lonely Lady of Shallot and I were bored so we decided to write this story! I had a lot of fun writing drunk Iggy, and I hope you have a lot of fun reading! Please R&R!**

~O~o~O~

3rd POV

Britain slammed the door behind himself, stumbling into his house before running into the couch and falling onto it. He was completely, totally, utterly wasted.

"F-Flying Mint Bunny, I'm not thaaaaaat drunk. Wait where'd ya go?" He spoke to his imaginary friend, before lashing his head from side to side, searching for his invisible friend, "Oh my god, what was that! I don't remember buying a vibrator!" Britain exclaimed as his pocket buzzed. After fumbling with his pocket, he finally managed to pull out his glowing phone. Staring at the screen, he saw that he'd gotten a text from France. He clicked it open, 'Mon ami you ok? I sat in ur driveway for 10 fucking minutes, watching while u try 2 open ur door, talking 2 urself the whole time. Wanted 2 make sure ur fine,'

Drunkenly giggling, he replied, 'FCK MAN I THOT U WER A VIBRATOR! :P' and clicked send.

France POV

I sat at in my kitchen, drinking a glass of wine and thinking about life, when the sounds of Frere Jacques filled the air. Ah, mon portable! I thought as I grabbed my phone to see it was a reply from Iggy. I hoped he was fine. He couldn't even open his fucking door! I'd seen the scone get pretty plastered, but never this drunk. Reading his text, I did a spit take, spraying my wine all over the place. It read, 'FCK MAN I THOT U WER A VIBRATOR! :P'. After I had stopped choking, a smile crept onto my face. Why not mess with a buzzed Iggy? I quickly replied, 'Naughty Iggy, how do u know what a vibrator feels like?' before cracking up again and pressing send.

3rd POV

I wonder who else I can text? England thought, as he began scrolling through his contacts, and sent Austria, Italy, and Romano a text each.

Austria POV

I suddenly awoke from my peaceful sleep to hear Chopin playing near my ear. Damn it, whoever the hell woke me from my nice dream about Hungary is going to pay. I groggily picked up my phone to see it was a text from Britain. 'U r so fcking sxy wen u play piano. Lst time I watchd I got a boner. No joke!' I groaned as I turned off my phone and tossed it across the room, turning over. Damn it, he must be drunk again, I thought as I fell back asleep.

Germany POV

I laid in bed staring at the ceiling as I tried my best to fall asleep. Italy had crept into bed with me again and was trying to spoon me. I liked it, but right now I just wanted to sleep. I still don't understand how he's so good at sneaking into here. Suddenly, I felt something buzz against my ass. Freaking out, I shot up in bed just as Italy did. He reached into his pocket and pulled out something. Oh thank god, it's just his phone. I looked at him as he read the text, and his face quickly turned from a blank stare to a look of horror.

"GERMANY," He screamed, "GERMANY, BRITAIN JUST SENT ME A FREAKY TEXT AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DEAL WITH IT!" Sighing, I reached for his phone,

"Here, let me see it," I said as I read the text. 'U hve a hot ass!' My face instantly turned crimson with rage.

"HOW DARE HE SAY THAT ABOUT MY ITA'S ASS!?" I shouted in anger.

"Huh?" Italy stared at me, half confused and half overjoyed.

"N-n-nothing," I stammered, my face turning 10 shades deeper as I deleted the message, "Just go back to sleep, Italy," I said as I laid back down, this time, happily allowing Italy to spoon me.

Spain POV

"HOLY CRAPOLA! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THAT BASTARD!" I heard Romano scream, followed by a loud smashing sound. I jumped out of bed and ran to his connected room.

"Romano! What's the matter?" I asked worriedly

"THAT! That is the matter!" He yelled, pointing towards the wall. I looked down to see the source of the crashing noise. Romano's cell phone laid by the wall in two pieces. I put it back together, turned it back on, and looked at the last text. It was from Britain, and it read, 'U hve a hot ass!'. I dropped the phone, shocked. How the hell was I supposed to react to THAT? After standing there, blank faced for about 5 minutes, I shook my head and turned to Romano.

"Just go to bed. It's 2 am. We'll talk about this later," I said to him.

"WHAT THE FUCK! IS THAT HOW YOUR REACTING TO THAT CREEPY MESSAGE FROM THAT SON OF A BITCH!?"

"For now, yes. Goodnight," I replied sleepily, walking back to my room.

3rd POV

Britain giggled as he thought about what he'd sent to his fellow nations when his phone buzzed again. He picked it up to see who it was from.

"What the hell happened to my phone! It's all in some alien language!" He freaked out, before realizing his phone was just upside-down. He flipped it, and proceeded to read the message.

"Hey, it's from a froggy!" He shrieked as he opened a text from France, 'Naughty Iggy, how do you know what a vibrator feels like?' He typed in, 'Rember lst friday?' and pressed send.

France POV

I sat impatiently tapping my foot, waiting for that damn Brit to text back. God he takes a long time to reply! Finally, my phone rang, and I picked it up to read the message, 'Rember lst friday?'. My face instantly turned the color of pink roses at full bloom. Boy, did I remember last Friday night! I speedily replied, 'Oui, I remember. What about it?'. I carefully set down the phone. How could he remember last Friday? He was flat out drunk as hell! But I guess I'm going to find out soon, non?

3rd POV

Britain stumbled around his house, searching for something, when finally he found it.

"Aha!" He screamed in triumph, "My whiskey!" And chugged the whole thing down. He was about to go and get some ice cream, when he heard his phone ring again. He stumbled back to the couch where his phone sat and looked at his text, 'Oui, I remember. What about it?', and replied, 'We used thm, dint we?'. He fell back onto the couch, sadly thinking about how no one had replied to his earlier texts, so he decided to give it one more shot and text Russia.

Russia POV

I took another long sip from Betty. That's what I named my vodka bottle. She's very dear to me.

"Hey, Latvia, go get me some more sunflower seeds!" I called to him as my phone rang. I picked it up to see it was a text from England. He's so cute. I opened it and a deranged smile crept across my face. 'I hrd tht russians hve big dicks. how bigs urs?', and quickly replied. This was going to be a fun night...

France POV

My phone buzzed again, this time quicker than the last. I opened up the text and now I was sure my face was the color of red roses, not pink. 'We used thm, dint we?' it read. I sat and thought for a few seconds about what to reply, finally typing in, 'Oui, we did. Did you enjoy it?' and pressing send. This was going to be a fun night...

3rd POV

"Tinker Bell! Tinker Bell! What are you doing stuck in there!? Come out! Tink!" Shrieked the snockered Brit as he clawed at the TV. Peter Pan was on, "Peter, we had an agreement! Now give her the fuck back!" Suddenly, his phone rang, twice this time. He screamed in terror and hid behind a chair, before peeking at his phone and slowly creeping over to it, "You damn bugger. If you kill me," He spoke to his phone, as he cautiously picked it up and read the messages. From Russia, 'Would u like me to show u?'. He replied, 'OMG ud do tht 4 me?! ur such a good frend! omg omg omg send me a pic NOW! :)'

The second one read, 'Oui, we did. Did you enjoy it?'. He wrote, 'FCK YEH! ;)' and pressed send. God, that frog is hot, thought England, last Friday was so fun!

Russia POV

"Here are your sunflower seeds, Russia-OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" I looked up to see Latvia covering his eyes, and my sunflower seeds scattered across the floor. After pressing send and putting away my cock, I stood up and went over to him.

"What is it? Are you okay?" I asked, hugging him.

"NO! NO, GET OFF OF ME! RUSSIA SIR PLEASE STOP TOUCHING ME!" His screams were muffled by my coat against his face. I let go of him and patted him on the head, turning away.

"Okay, I'm going to my room now. Clean those up." I spoke to Latvia as I walked to my bedroom.

Latvia POV

I am now scarred. Forever.

France POV

'FCK YEH! ;)' I read, now trying to ignore the annoying bulge in my pants. I sat there, thinking about the perfect thing to say. Finally, I thought of it, and quickly typed it out, pressing send.

3rd POV

"You show the lights that stop me turn to stoooooone! You shine them when I'm alone!" Britain shrieked as tears came down his face. He went over and hugged the speakers, "ELLIE! YOU KNOW ME SOOOOOOOO WELLL," He cried. As his butt buzzed, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and opened the picture message from Russia. He stood there and stared at his phone in awe for 10 minutes before dropping it and bowing to it. Then he grabbed it and typed, 'FCK ITS HUGE! THKS I OWE YOU ONE!' and pressing send. Just as he did, his phone buzzed again. This time, it was France. 'Would you like me to come over, mon ami?' Britain smiled, 'FCK YEH! GET UR ASS OVR HERE!'

France POV

I excitedly picked up my phone the second it rang, and pressed the read button. I smiled as my face turned a nice shade of plum and I quickly typed, 'Gladly' before grabbing my keys and running out the door.


	2. The Morning After

**Due to popular demand…chapter 2!**

~O~o~O~

Britain's POV

"Bloody hell," I awoke with the worst blasted hangover I've had in years, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I tried to sit up, but stopped as a shot of pain rushed through my...lower regions, "What the hell..." I groaned softly to myself. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself as the rancidly sweet odor of lavender and vanilla attacked my nostrils. I froze still. Nothing in my house smelled like that, except maybe my lavender and vanilla tea, but I doubted that that was anywhere near my bedroom. In fact, there was only one thing I knew of that stunk of that exact smell, and god how I prayed it wasn't next to me.

I was suddenly aware of a weight over my torso, and even though I dreaded what I'd see, I decided to finally open my eyes. I slowly peeked them open, staring at my ceiling, and...nothing. Nothing there but a ceiling. I let out a sigh of relief as I slowly went to sit up, only to be pulled closer to the other side of my bed, or more specifically the warm mass occupying it.

"Non, mon amour. Don't paint the kitten chartreuse, you know I hate that color," The oaf beside me muttered (hopefully) in his sleep.

"HOLY FUCK!" I shrieked, jumping up and falling out of my bed, hitting my head on the hard, cold floor, making my already horrid hangover worse. The cold wood against my arse felt sickeningly-...wait. Against my...oh fuck no.

I looked down at myself to see that I was completely nude, and if I'd ventured a glance up, I would've seen that the same could be said for froggy face. Trying to control my rising nausea, caused both by my hangover and my disgust at what I must have done with the wanker the previous night, I jumped up, only to see France roll over and open his eyes, smiling.

"Mon cher, you woke me up. Now calm down and come back to bed," France said in his annoyingly silky voice. Wait, what? Oh fuck it, I have more important things to worry about then what I think of his stupid sexy voice.

"NO FUCKING WAY I'M GOING TO BED WITH YOU, YOU WANKER!" I shouted at him, grabbing the closest thing and chucking it at him. Of course, that thing happened to be a pillow, so unfortunately not much harm was done, but he got the message. He shot me a snake-like devious smile.

"Ohonhon, but mon ami, you did not think that last night," I so wanted to slap that fucking grin off of his fucking face.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" I once again screamed at him. He sighed, rolling over (and giving me quite a nice view of his backside-No! I'm the United bloody Kingdom and I cannot be having thoughts like this!) to grab his phone, pressing a few buttons, and showing me the screen. I could feel my face heat up as I read the text with my name above it.

'FCK YEH!' It read, 'GET UR ASS OVR HERE!'

"Let me see that!" I ordered, grabbing the bloody phone from his hand. I scrolled through the conversation only to have my face turn such a dark shade of red it must've looked purple. I threw up, shat myself, and died (all inside my head, of course) at the same time.

"You know, mon mari, I've got such a wonderful view from here," The bastard said to me, now sitting up.

"I'm not your fucking husband!" I shouted at him, instantly regretting it.

"So you do speak French! I knew it!" He replied with a victorious look on his face. Then we sort of just stayed there, myself staring daggers at his gorgeous face (Fuck! Britain! Stop!) and him grinning comfortably at me. He glanced downward suddenly, his grin growing, "You do realize, mon cher, that you never complained about me seeing you in your current state," Silence.

"MON DIEU! PUTAIN, THAT FOUTRE HURT!" France moaned as he rubbed his head where his expensive phone had just hit him, leaving a huge bump. I turned on the spot, grabbing a pair of boxers and trousers and pulling them both on swiftly. At this action, I could see France's face drop just a tad bit more.

"Black sheep of Europe," France mumbled, looking away.

"Don't bloody call me that, frog," I bitch slapped him, turning and grabbing his clothing. After a slight hesitation, and trying very hard to imprint this image in my brain, I threw his clothing at him, "Now clothe your arse, we have a World Meeting today." France chuckled one last time, pulling on his pants.

"And you don't mind us walking into the meeting together?" Overcome with anger, I spun on my heel and kissed the damn frog, following the action with the strongest punch I'd ever given anyone. Ever.

"God I fucking hate your damn ass," I muttered to myself, clearing my throat, "There, I feel better now. Now come on, let's go," I ordered, grabbing two Tylenol and swallowing them down as I led him out the door.

~O~o~O~

**If you wanna know what the French meant, foutre means fucking and putain means bitch or whore. Your choice. Oh, and if you want to read more, bug the Lonely Lady of Shalott! We're writing every time we hang out, so if you bug her, we'll get together and make another chapter! Tell her Lady Death sent you!**


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